The Pink Eyeball ( Uta Tokyo Ghoul )

Deep Slumber

"You should leave."

He sniffed the air and said,"Why? Did I smell bad?"

"No!" I waved my hands around wildly " I don't want the neighbors to think I have a - a man alone in my house!"

"But I am not a man."

"At least get out of my bedroom!"

He flipped one of my pillows to the floor.

"Nice badroom. It's to do bad things, you know."

An angry blush crept to my cheek as my anger boils over.

"That's it. Get out. OUT!" I reached for my pillow on the floor and threw it at his face, but he grabbed it easily and tossed it aside.

Then he proceeded to lie on my bed, his hand behind his head resting above my pillow, he patted my bed smiling slightly and cooed," Come to bed. Kitty must be sleepy. Sleepy kitty. Bad  kitt-"

Another pillow went flying straight to his face.

Earlier, I had been in the kitchen with him when he revealed indirectly to me that he was a ghoul; that shock had not wear off me. Of course I knew what he was, but hearing it from his own mouth made it seem more... real, somehow. As if this is really happening. The world as I know it is really infested with ghouls.

"What makes you think I know?", I asked as I set down a cup of coffee for him on the table.

"It's only a matter of time, since you are so interested in my eyes," he said calmly.

I breathed out a small sigh of relief inwardly.

"And...?" I prompted.

"And you make good coffee."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "And that's it? Don't ghouls have a.. I don't know, code of honor or something? A code of silence? Like omerta? Now I knew your secret, what are you going to do? Is that not breaking your rules and-"

He drained the last drop of coffee and set down the cup.

"This is better than Starbucks."

"Are you even listening?!"

I gave up. Snatching the cup away, I washed it in the sink roughly, nearly smashing the fragile ceramic mug.

"The only thing that made a difference to me is that you are even more afraid of me now." he said plainly.

I slowly turned to face him.

He is wearing a weird ring singlet with metal ring on the straps which suit him since he is so weird, and a large, baggy pajamas jacket. He seems to live forever in those clothes, going by their baggy and worn-out state.

"When have I ever been afraid of you?" I scoffs.

He did not instantly reply, but wanders around in my kitchen, randomly picking up bits of cutlery.

"You always seem extraordinarily frightened of me, it's infectious. Now I am quite afraid of myself." he added.

"Maybe I am afraid about your sense of clothing!"

"Me?", he looks at me with widened eyes. "I am a very fashionable person."

"For a person who wears his grandmother's pajamas," I added under my breath.

I heard a low chuckle from his back. And then, before I could let out a word of protest, he opened my bedroom door and walked inside.

Now, I stare at this incredibly infuriating creature with burning eyes. If looks could kill, he would have been half dead now. He was so tall the tip of his toes nearly stick out of my small bed.